


Betting on a Sure Thing

by ambiguously



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: 5 Things, Extra Treat, Gambling, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-30 14:27:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8536696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/pseuds/ambiguously
Summary: Five times Han and Lando played games.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [musamihi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/musamihi/gifts).



"There's a job I need your help on," the stranger says, instead of "Hello." He's got a drink in his hand and a predatory expression on his lips as he sits down at Han's booth without an invitation. This murky bar, thick with the reek of unwashed aliens and loud with conversations in languages Han doesn't speak, is just the place to find work for those whose trade isn't sanctioned by the Empire.

"And you are?"

"Well, that's up to you, Han." He's someone who asks enough questions to know Han's name and that his services might be up for negotiation. Could be another smuggler. Could be Imperial. Han's hand checks his blaster as he keeps the smile. The guy says, "I could be just some man you tell to shove off now, that you look back on later and wonder how rich you would have been if you'd heard me out. Or I could be a very good friend with one business proposition, and the chance at many others in the future."

The quiet smirk doesn't leave the man's face. He's not much older than Han, but he wears the air of someone who'd like to be taken for much older and more experienced. A con man. Han relaxes.

"I'm going to need more than vague promises of money to decide if I'm going to throw your butt out of my booth. You have someone who can vouch for you? Or a name?"

The man shrugs. "Both. Are you trustworthy enough to hear them?"

"Nope." Han takes a fake sip from his own cup as the guy's smirk breaks into an amused chuckle.

"I like you already. Tell you what. We'll flip for it. Heads, I tell you everything. Tails, you agree to help and I tell you what you need to know." He pulls out a coin from his pocket. Han grabs his hand.

"Fine. But we use my coin."

It flips in the air, and Han snatches it mid-spin, slapping the disc onto his hand. He's bored, and he's broke, and he doesn't have a lot to lose. A job means food. He doesn't even look at the face. "Guess I'm in."

"Call me Lando."

* * *

Han's got a partner, and that's taking some time to get used to. Chewbacca is like nobody he's ever met before, starting from the ground up. Most people who've wandered into his life have been happy to fade out again, but Chewie is loyalty itself. They've been tooling around together for about a month in a broken-down shuttle they can barely keep flying. The big lug has already saved Han's butt twice, and Han has returned the favor.

He doesn't know how protective he's gotten of his new friend until they're at a dirty bar in a bad part of a bad planet, and a familiar face slides into the next seat. "Hello, Han."

Han glares at him. "Lando."

"Who's your friend?"

Chewbacca gives him a friendly yet slightly warning growl. Lando replies in terrible Shyriiwook.

"Since when do you speak Wookiee?"

Lando shrugs. "I speak a lot of things. I'm speaking credits now. Are you looking for work?"

"I nearly lost my neck the last time I worked for you. What makes you think I want to do that again?"

Lando pulls a datapad from his pocket and slides it over to Han. There are specifications and course information for an Imperial bullion carrier coming through this sector in a few days. He's got security codes, troop deployments, and a fast ship of his own.

Han looks up at him. He shoves the pad back. "You're crazy."

Lando pulls out a second datapad. This one has a detailed plan for getting in and out without being seen.

Han shoves it away. Chewbacca reaches past him and pulls it back to read.

"This is a bad idea."

"Play me for it," Lando says. "One hand of sabacc. I win, you two join my crew for the mission and get fifty percent of the take."

"Sixty."

"I can allow sixty," says Lando.

"If I win?"

"I go it alone and give you five percent out of the generosity of my heart if I survive."

"No deal."

He can't stop Chewie from accepting, even as Han gives him a death glare. Chewie is bad at sabacc. Really bad.

* * *

Chewbacca is on his way to an Imperial prison, and Han is desperate. Most of his contacts won't go near that kind of job, and under any other circumstances, neither would Han. It figures that on his last bid for help, he winds up in a dusty cantina with a guy who nearly got him killed twice.

"I heard," Lando says even before Han can tell him. "I don't work for free."

Han's face breaks out of the neutral, easy to please mien he's adopted for this life. "No kidding."

Lando takes a long drink from his glass. "Darts. Three each. You win, we get on my ship and spring your friend. I win, we get on my ship and spring your friend, and you owe me. Big."

A fluttery relief hits Han's gut. "Done."

* * *

It's three days later and Chewbacca has gone back to Kashyyyk for a little while. He hasn't seen his family since before he paired up with Han, before the slavers took him away. He doesn't mind risking his neck working with his new best friend, but there's something about coming a few seconds from his own execution that makes him want to hug his mother. Han doesn't remember having a mother, but he gets the sentiment, and he is giddy from their success. He doesn't mind cooling his heels in a nearby system to keep from drawing attention to his partner's visit home.

Lando is still with him, still pleased as anything. They're buying each other the best drinks this fifth-rate Jizz club has on offer, and playing every bar game they can remember the rules for. Chewie is Han's best buddy. Lando is something else, not a friend, not an ally, but someone he can turn to when all the rest of the walls are closing in, and that matters.

He tries to tell Lando this, and it comes out in a fuzzy mumble. Lando laughs at him, but it isn't as though he can string together a sentence now, either.

They manage to get back to his ship before they pass out in the same bunk. When Han wakes up in the morning, head pounding from the hangover, Lando kisses his temple to make it feel better. Han jokes about other parts hurting and needing a kiss. Lando takes that as a dare, and Han has never once backed down from a good dare once he's started. Besides, months have passed since any hand touched him but his own, and it's been over a year since he had a good kiss.

Han isn't a romantic, and even if he was, this is the dead opposite. But it feels good, and they're all alive, and Chewie won't be back for days. Not that he'd care.

* * *

Lando never talks about it so neither does Han. It was fun, a couple of days in bed with a friend. That was all. They meet up for a job under a big name trader, and Lando doesn't say a word, and Han doesn't care. He doesn't care so much that as soon as they get their cut, he picks up the first willing attractive face he meets at their next port of call.

Chewie just sighs, calls him a fool, and tells him to get over it.

Han does, eventually. They work with Lando on and off, but their jobs tend to take them far from the sectors where he's busy. They're on their fourth shuttle, and this one is falling apart around them just like the other three. They need a big score to buy something nice, something like the sweet ride Lando has.

Lando calls them in for a big heist he's planning, and Han declines. "We're busy."

"You're sulking."

"Fine."

The heist doesn't land them nearly the number of credits Lando promised, but it's nice to see him smiling again. They settle up the take in an out of the way droid bar, surrounded by electronic beeps and whoops. Lando wants to linger, enjoying the few drinks they have for organics, and Han has no place to be.

"Let's play something," says Lando, grabbing a sabacc deck from the bar. "I'm feeling generous. You might win the rest of the take." He's thinking the other way around. Han isn't ready to lose their cut just yet, and he's learned not to play straight sabacc with a man who keeps an Idiot in his sleeve.

"I'll play, but with Corellian Spike rules."

Chewie growls a warning. He doesn't want to lose his money, either.

"Sure." Lando smiles.

Han keeps the smile off his own face. He's good at Corellian Spike, much better than Lando knows. He wonders just how big he can convince his pal to make this pot.


End file.
